


Bridges

by mintycarrots



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji Being an Asshole, Childhood Friends, Friends to Enemies to Friends Again to Lovers, Growing Up, M/M, Miya Atsumu Being an Asshole, Miya Osamu Being an Asshole, POV Akaashi Keiji, Rebuilding bridges, Slow Build, burning bridges, haha they enable each other, multi year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintycarrots/pseuds/mintycarrots
Summary: “I wish you both best of luck. I hope Inarizaki makes it to semi finals, we’re in different brackets, after all.”Atsumu’s expression went unreadable for a moment, before a haughty look crossed it, “As if we need luck,” he scoffed. Keiji faltered, fingers twisting, “Get ready to get crushed, Keiji-chan,” he sneered.What crawled up his ass? There was no need to be so hostile, he frowned.Keiji flitted over to Osamu, who had yet to say a word, but he wasn’t watching him, looking entirely disinterested in the conversation. He scowled and straightened, meeting Atsumu’s eyes.“Very well,” he said curtly, “Don’t count on it, Miya-san.”-After moving away, Keiji comes into contact with the Miya twins again, but 6 years seemed to have put some distance between them
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji & the Miya Twins, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> gratuitous descs of volleyball ahead

_"Let's get away from Atsumu, he's stupid," Osamu whispered, grabbing Keiji's hand and tugging him away from his brother._

_He gave a small nod and allowed himself to be pulled into the Miya's yard and behind a few bushes. Behind him, he could hear Atsumu crying loudly to his parents about something, a broken toy, maybe, he didn't know._

_All Keiji could focus on was Osamu's hand clasped tightly around his own, and his breath coming in quick puffs from both excitement and fatigue._

_They both giggled, sitting down in the shade, and Osamu revealed a bag of crackers he had hidden away in his pant pocket._

_"Will Atsumu-chan look for us?" Keiji whispered, despite already being well out of earshot._

_"Nah, we just have to be quiet," Osamu grinned, holding a finger to his lips._

-

"Why am I not here??" Bokuto whined, flipping back to the front and skimming through all the pages again, "I'm practically the ace already!"

One of their upperclassmen laughed harshly, "Not with those mood swings, you're not."

Keiji wanted to bite him, but instead sent a swift glare before taking the magazine, Volleyball Monthly, from Bokuto's hands before he wore it out.

He scanned over the first few pages, news on the rosters that had just been released for the Division 1 teams. Then after came the collegiate league, and then the up and coming high schoolers. 

A second year had made top 10, Ushijima Wakatoshi from Miyagi's Shiratorizawa, as a left handed player too, and was expected to do quite well in the upcoming Interlochen.

Keiji wondered if Bokuto could reach top 10 by the end of his second year. Assuming the third years actually let him play, of course. Right now he was sitting somewhere around 15th on the national rankings.

A double feature section caught his eye, the MIYA Twins. He paused and turned back to the page. Staring back at him, were two familiar, and identical faces, staring at the camera with a facts column framing their photos.

_Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu - setter and wing spiker. _

_As first years, the duo has taken the world by storm. Both coming from Yako Junior High, Miya Atsumu quickly became starting setter for powerhouse Inarizaki High School in Kobe, Hyogo. They made it all the way to semifinals in their first year alone, brotherhood forming an inexplicable bond and trust between the two._

_Birthday: October-_

Keiji stopped reading. Osamu and Atsumu? 'Inexplicable bond and trust?' Huh. It _had_ been quite some time since he had last seen either of them.

Tossing it onto the table, he closed his locker and headed to the gym.

-

Sitting at his desk, glaring down at the pre-calc swimming in his vision, Keiji was heavily reconsidering Bokuto’s offer to meet up at the gym. 

He sighed and tapped his pencil against the edge of his desk, and prayed that some deity would grant him some text at this moment. Nothing.

He picked up his phone nonetheless, resolving to take a 5 minute break, and began to scroll through social media. 

An image flashed through his mind and he quirked up an eyebrow. Keiji pulled up the search bar and typed in: _miya twins volleyball._

63800 results. His eyes widened and, interest piqued, he quickly pressed on an Inarizaki game clip. 

It was a clip from qualifiers, maybe semi finals or something, and he skipped passed the first few minutes until he recognized something.

Atsumu, looking the same as he had 6 years ago, bar the height and broad shoulders, stepped back and the crowd went silent. Dramatic, much? He ran up, jumped, and then hit an absolutely _killer_ serve.

Keiji sucked in his cheeks and replayed it. And again. He searched up just _miya atsumu_ and clicked on the first link he saw.

_Miya Atsumu won the best server award in the junior high division in the Hyogo Prefecture._

Okay, _wow._

He sat back and became to absorb the information. Atsumu and Osamu were now in the volleyball world, and apparently they were good. Really good. At a powerhouse school, too.

Tallying his odds… Fukurodani was most definitely making it past the preliminaries, and assuming they followed the same brackets as last tourney, they wouldn’t meet Itachiyama (no way they weren’t making it) until finals, but there would be 3 slots so as long as they beat their second match… 

Yeah Fukurodani would be making it. 

Now what were the chances they would play Inarizaki?

Keiji knew that he probably wouldn’t be put in, their setter was still way better and had far more experience than him. It’d be nice to see the Miyas again, though. Maybe they’d want to hang out after. 

-

Stepping off the bus was exhilarating, gazing up at the stadium. Keiji grinned to himself; time for Nationals. 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto whooped, punching the air. He snagged the back of the spiker’s jacket and tugged him back, allowing their captain to lead Fukurodani in. 

Bokuto moved to tug off his mask but Keiji stopped him.

“Why do we have to wear them??” he whined.

“We’re making a fashion statement,” Keiji deadpanned. Don’t ask him, it was the captain’s choice. Konoha rolled his eyes and slapped Bokuto’s back.

“You can take them off once we’re inside.” he said. Keiji glanced around them, watching as teams from all over the country poured into the parking lot. The crowd looked like a kaleidoscope of colors… if a kaleidoscope looked very organized and aesthetically unpleasing. Tugging his track jacket’s collar up, Keiji stuck his hands into his pockets. 

The entrance hall was huge, and very very loud as kids from different schools yelled out greeting, taunts, and jokes to each other.

“HEY! It’s Ushijima!” Bokuto yelled over the din, tugging on Keiji’s jacket. “Let’s go say hi!”

Keiji glanced over and spotted Shiratorizawa’s purple. When he was in middle school he had watched Fukurodani’s match against them, it was a battle of power, with Bokuto’s sharp crosses versus Ushijima’s southpaw. It was a really close match, a deuce pushed into the thirties, but in the end Fukurodani moved ahead to the third round. He tried to surreptitiously glance over the heads of the players as he was dragged along, searching for maroon. 

“Ushijima-kun!” Bokuto called as soon as they neared, and the stoic spiker turned, a redheaded blocker besides him popping up and narrowing his eyes at the pair. Keiji flattened his expression and narrowed his eyes right back. 

“Bokuto,” he nodded.

“Who’s this?” the redhead chirped, leaning forward to scrutinize Keiji. He leaned back. 

“Oh yeah! This is Akaashi- he’s a setter! First year!” Bokuto said enthusiastically, pressing a hand on Keiji’s back and pushing him forwards. He dipped into a slight bow, crossing his hands behind him. 

“Hm,” Ushijima said thoughtfully, “We also have a new first year setter.”

The blocker twisted around and screeched, “SHIRABU-KUN!”

Keiji winced at the volume and a few moments later, a small boy with copper ruler bangs appeared, glancing over towards Bokuto before addressing his senpai.

“Yes, Tendou-san?” his tone was polite, though a bit exasperated. Keiji could relate.

“Look! Fukurodani also got a new firstie setter!” Tendou exclaimed, shoving Shirabu forwards, and Keiji reached out to steady him before he toppled them over. 

“Hello,” he greeted. Shirabu sent a glare towards Tendou before giving a brief bow. 

“Shirabu Kenjirou,” he said shortly. Bokuto enthusiastically introduced himself, before he got distracted by something behind them.

“Hey where’s Semi?? He’s here, yeah?”

Shirabu’s face twisted into a scowl, but it disappeared quickly into a neutral expression, and Keiji braced himself as Tendou twisted around again. 

“SEMI-SEMI!” he yelled. He was easily one of the loudest people in the hall. And that was saying something. 

It definitely drew the attention of the teams around him, who began shuffling away. Keiji spotted a flash of maroon and quickly excused himself, chasing after the jacket. 

He swore to himself as a blue pushed behind him, stumbling into green, accidentally elbowing white- oh wait that was Konoha, “Sorry, Konoha-san!” and falling forward to tap on the red’s shoulder, dark brown hair-

Oh. Their face looked… squashed? His hair was tufted at the sides, giving his face an oval impression. Decidedly not a Miya.

“...Do I know you?”

“Ah, sorry, I mistook you for someone else,” Keiji muttered, examining the jacket again, “Are you Inarizaki?”

He nodded, looking like he wanted to just leave Keiji standing there. He gave him a quick once over. 

“Fukurodani?”

“Er, I’m looking for the Miya twins?” he said hesitantly, peering up through his lashes.

He scanned over Keiji again. The boy sighed and turned, gesturing for Keiji to follow. The concentration of red thickened as they wade through the players, bypassing Itachiyama and Kamomedai.

The brunet reached out and tapped a boy with blond hair’s shoulder, muttering something in his ear before jerking his head towards Keiji. He fought the urge to fiddle with his jacket as the boy turned around, raising an eyebrow, another with grey hair following his line of sight.

Keiji’s eyes widened in surprise. Atsumu and Osamu stared down at him, slight glares on their faces. Except… they had to have had the _ugliest_ dye jobs Keiji had ever seen. Considering the fact that he saw Bokuto everyday. Their hair was more coarse than it was when it was their natural black, and it fell in their eyes half covering their dark looks. Osamu’s hair was a dark grey… like the color of… mold… and Atsumu’s was a goldish yellow… like stir fry noodles.

He grimaced.

“Who’re you?” Osamu said gruffly, Kansai-ben thick and familiar. 

Oh, right, Keiji took his hand out of his pocket and unhooked his mask, “Hello, Osamu-chan.”

Their eyebrows flew higher, if possible. 

“Keiji-chan?” Atsumu said disbelievingly, squinting at him.

“I wanted to say hi before matches start,” he continued, tucking his mask into his pocket and shrugging off his jacket, “I wish you both best of luck. I hope Inarizaki makes it to semi finals, we’re in different brackets, after all.”

Atsumu’s expression went unreadable for a moment, before a haughty look crossed it, “As if we need luck,” he scoffed. Keiji faltered, fingers twisting, “Get ready to get crushed, _Keiji-chan,_ ” he sneered.

What crawled up his ass? There was no need to be so hostile, he frowned. 

Keiji flitted over to Osamu, who had yet to say a word, but he wasn’t watching him, looking entirely disinterested in the conversation. He scowled and straightened, meeting Atsumu’s eyes. 

“Very well,” he said curtly, “Don’t count on it, Miya-san.” 

Keiji turned and disappeared back into the crowd, a furious look in his eyes. He wanted to be polite and perhaps reconnect with old friends, and _this_ was what he got. Awesome. 

Where was Bokuto? He nearly ran headfirst into Sarukui, who quickly pressed against his shoulders. 

“What’s up?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Nothing,” Keiji gritted out, “Sorry, Sarukui-san.”

His upperclassmen looked disbelieving but allowed Keiji to continue on. Konoha spotted the look on his face and quickly stepped out of Keiji’s way.

“Bokuto’s with the Itachiyama guys,” he called out of him. _Great,_ Keiji pivoted on his heel and stormed back the way he came.

“Oi- Akaashi-kun! Grab Bokuto, entrance ceremony’s in 10!” the captain called after him. That was true, the hall was slowly getting organized back to their respective teams, and it was getting easier to push through with each second. 

Keiji let out an audible ‘tch’ when Inarizaki began moving past him, but he could see the neon yellow-green jackets to their left, Bokuto’s white hair standing out like a spotlight. 

“Bokuto-san,” he called out, “Captain wants you back.”

He perked up and waved Keiji over. A brown haired boy with the thickest eyebrows Keiji had ever seen grinned, “So you’re Akaashi, huh?” 

Komori Motoya, a first year like him, won the best Libero award for Tokyo’s junior high division last year.

He gave a slightly strained smile, before noticing the sulking boy next to him, glaring at the ground as he attempted to hide behind the shorter boy.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, another first year, but a spiker, and during the Interhigh his rankings had skyrocketed, sitting at 12th right now.

“I’m afraid we have to go,” Keiji gripped the back of Bokuto’s jersey and forcefully tugged him away, “Nice to meet you.”

“We might play against each other!” Komori called after them, “We’re in the same bracket!”

He nodded and continued to drag Bokuto along when he yelled, _“Aran-kun!!”_

Keiji felt twin gazes on his back, but focused instead on quietly chiding Bokuto for running off.

“Hey, you alright Akaashi?” Bokuto asked with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because you don’t look it,” a hand reached out and prodded at Keiji’s brow, smoothing it out. 

“Just nerves,” he brushed away his hand and joined the rest of the team, turning towards the front of the hall right as the speakers boomed.

_“Thank you for waiting. We will now begin the opening ceremony for the 2012 National High School Volleyball Tournament, otherwise known as the Spring Tournament.”_

Keiji’s heart picked up pace as Coach yelled for everybody to line up, and he was placed near the end as number 10.

The stadium was huge. Four courts surrounded on 3 sides with rows and rows of spectators, cameras swiveling left and right, the orchestra booming loud as the announcer rattled off.

_“Tokyo Boys’ Second Representative, Fukurodani Academy.”_

Their line began moving forward and he played with the edge of his jersey, focusing on Washio’s back in front of him. 

To their right, Itachiyama stood as Tokyo’s first representative, and behind was Shinzen, as the third. 

47 representative schools, 70 teams.

-

Day 1 passed easily without any bumps, Bokuto staying in top form the whole game, and therefore kept in both sets. Keiji had even been switched in briefly when their setter began wearing down, and he managed to get a good dump over the other teams’ heads. 

“Hey Akaashi, good job!” Bokuto cheered once more, holding up double hands. Keiji high fived him before continuing to gather his things. “That was quick! What other matches are playing??” 

The coach drew all of their attention, “You all know the hotel we’re staying at, but let’s all try and meet up at 4 in front of the stadiums. Remember to shower between now and then,” he shot a sharp look towards Bokuto, who pouted, “And try not to cause any trouble. You’re free to go.”

Almost immediately, Bokuto grabbed onto Keiji and began pushing him out of the stadium, to the vendor’s hall, where the matchups were listed. 

“Aw, Itachiyama’s is already over,” Bokuto groaned, moving aside to let the person add in the scored from the Fukurodani game. Their opponent was still to be determined, still halfway through their second set.

“Shiratorizawa’s against Inarizaki,” Keiji not so subtly nudged Bokuto, “That has to be a good match.”

“Aw yeah! Aran-kun against Ushijima-kun! What court are they on?”

“4, but it’s probably going to be really crowded because it’s on the side.”

There were a lot of wagers saying that Shiratorizawa and Inarizaki would make it to quarter finals, but now they had a chance to knock each other out of the tourney early on.

Taking a single glance at the crowd, Keiji grimaced and led them both down to the courts, standing behind the barrier with a few other players and the cameras, giving them a closer look. 

At that moment Semi was being switched out for Shirabu. _Was that a smart move..?_ After watching just a few rallies, he could already see the difference. Semi was bold, pushing to be unpredictable and switching between using the different spikers, showing off his own skills while he was at it. Shirabu, on the other hand, seemed to utilize Ushijima, not bothering with the fancy stuff to distract Inarizaki’s blockers, instead, relying on Ushijima’s cannon.

The game was swaying in the foxes' favor right now, so they probably wanted to rack up on points.

Soon, Inarizaki grew exasperated and just stuck a blocker on Ushijima, having their opposite stick to defense in case any leaked through. 

Keiji watched Atsumu play with a passive face. His sets were perfect. It irritated him. What bugged him even more was that his sets were perfect, but they weren’t textbook, which meant not only were the spikers doing fantastic, they were also unpredictable. Damn him.

The whistle blew and one of the spikers were replaced with- Osamu. Grey hair. His head slowly scanned across the court, Keiji could’ve sworn he spotted him and Bokuto on the side (white wasn’t very subtle), before bouncing the ball once and taking a few steps back. 

The ref signalled for his serve to start and Osamu readied himself, taking advantage of every second before the whistle, before running and slamming the ball down.

Of course both of them had jump serves. They were nearly identical, too, and the ball ricocheted wildly upon meeting the libero’s arms. 

Their libero would do alright, maybe receive some of the weaker ones, maybe Komi would probably be able to meet it head on, Keiji noted.

He shifted his attention over to Shiratorizawa as the next serve was cleanly bumped up, Shirabu running under the ball. He really was a bit rinse and repeat, Ushijima, Ushijima, three blockers on Ushijima? Maybe Tendou, Ushijima Ushiji-  
  
The ball tipped over the net and Atsumu hit the deck.

Okay, so he had a little bit of nerve, Keiji smiled to himself.

“Aww!” Bokuto groaned, “So close!”

“Who’re you rooting for?”

“Shiratorizawa! I want to play again Ushijima-kun!” 

Privately, Keiji wondered _why_ Bokuto wanted to go up against such a monster. Maybe that was just part of the thrill.

In the end, Inarizaki ended up winning 2-1, and Atsumu shook Shirabu’s hand under the net, saying something Keiji didn’t catch. He was too occupied staring down Osamu, who had turned to look at him. 

A part of his mind had also hoped that Shiratorizawa would win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Childhood friends trope but in my style of writing! I'd like to think that my writing has gotten better in the 4 months since Growth Mindset, so we'll see if it's true as the story progresses! 
> 
> # of chapters is subject to change!
> 
> (Took some exam for a school today, posting this from the high.)
> 
> Talk to me on twt @ mandelineh, I also post art there, liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hand grabbed ahold of his shoulder, "Hey- what's yer deal?!" Osamu exclaimed. 
> 
> "My deal?"
> 
> "Why the fuck're you so pissy to me?"
> 
> Keiji knocked away the hand and turned, glaring, "My deal, what is my deal?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw // vomiting
> 
> idk if I'm supposed to put a warning but just in case

_Keiji stuck his tongue out at Atsumu and laughed a second later, ducking under the hand Atsumu swiped at him. He ran before immediately tripping over a ball on the ground and went sprawling across the ground. He waited for Atsumu to pounce on him, but it never came._

_He turned around to see Osamu locked in a standstill with Atsumu, pushing him backwards at the same rate Atsumu was pushing forwards._

_“Traitor!” Atsumu roared, “Yer s’pose to be on my side!”_

_“Like I’d ever wanna be on yours!” Osamu yelled back. Keiji quickly pushed himself up to watch. Atsumu quickly back off and darted around Osamu in another attempt to swat at Keiji, who grinned as he leapt back._

_A pair of arms wrapped around Keiji and he was spun around._

_“Loser!” Osamu smirked, holding Keiji tight against his arms._

_Keiji stuck out his tongue at Atsumu again, who scowled._

_“Look who’s talkin’!” he grabbed onto Keiji’s hand and yanked him away from his brother, stumbling backwards, “C’mon I wanna go see if the playground's free!”_

_“Keiji!” a voice called out._

_He pouted before turning to see his mother standing outside of their house, a hand cupped around her mouth, “Dinner!”_

_“I gotta go,” he muttered sullenly, letting go of Atsumu’s hand._

_“We’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Osamu asked. Keiji nodded definitively before waving one last time, running back to his house._

_“Look at you, covered in dirt,” she scolded playfully._

_He grinned guiltily, “We were playing.”_

_She rolled her eyes and opened the door for him, “Go wash your hands before sitting down.”_

-

The rest of the tournament flew by in a flash. Well, it was a flash because half the time Keiji's vision was tinged red.

He'd turn around, and, look there's the Miya twins, wow, they're so hot! Or, do you think I can get Atsumu's signature? Do you think Osamu-kun has a girlfriend?

By the time Fukurodani had a match against Inarizaki, Keiji was ready to throw hands with his 'childhood friends' before it even started.

Keiji excused himself to the bathroom a few minutes before the game started and quickly did his business, tucking his jersey back into his shorts before stepping out to wash his hands.

A player in blue dried his hands and nudged open the door, muttering a quick apology as they bumped into the boys walking in.

"-ya reckon he hates us now?" a hushed voice whispered. Keith paused, watching the sink continue to run.

"Nah, he ain't the type to hold grudges," a second muttered back.

"How d'you know? It's been ages. Looks real smug now, wanna wipe it off his face..."

It didn't take a genius to piece two and two together.

"As if you don't?" Keiji interjected aloud, turning around. They had the decency to look at least somewhat guilty upon being caught talking smack. His eyes glinted dangerously, "I'd watch your words if I were you, Miya-san," he said quietly.

He brushed past Osamu, shoulder skimming the other's lightly before pushing open the door.

"Warm ups are starting. I recommend you head to the court soon," he paused, "Unless you're too scared to show."

The door swung shut behind him, and Keiji grimaced down at his hands, shaking off the droplets and wiping them on his jersey.

-

Sadly, the twins showed up in time, and Keiji watched them closely as Atsumu began setting to the spikers to warm up.

"Alright, listen up," Coach called, "We went over the game tapes last night so we know what to expect. Don't underestimate their first years, they scouted some really good players out of junior high."

The whistle blew.

"You guys know the drill," their captain started, "We've come this far, let's give it our all. Fukurodani on three, 1, 2, 3-"

"FUKURODANI!" they all screamed, nearly drowning out the crowd.

The team dispersed, Coach and Shirofuku to the bench, their starters towards the court, and Keiji to the box.

He scowled as Inarizaki took their places across the next, both twins on.

The game picked up quickly, starting with a serve for Fukurodani, and soon points began tallying up on both sides. A smashed block, a missed dive, a net serve.

What was most concerning was the blockers stuck on Bokuto. With his line shots missing 70% of the time and his crosses continuously getting blocked (the tufted brunet was half the reason, Keiji noted with dissatisfaction), Bokuto was quickly falling out of top gear.

His hair began to droop.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder, "Don't look so stressed," Konoha said, still watching the game intently, "Bokuto'll be back in no time, just you wait."

His fingers twisted nervously, "I hope so," he muttered. But with the way the vindictive smile was creeping across Atsumu's face, it seemed unlikely they'd let it happen anytime soon.

"We can't take Bokuto out or he'll sink lower," he could hear Coach mutter, "But Inarizaki's widening the gap. At this rate, they'll take the first set..."

Keiji winced as the dark skinned one- Aran- slammed a ball into Bokuto's block, ricocheting off but landing just on the line, their libero centimeters away from where it landed.

"Lucky..." Konoha muttered darkly. Saruki nodded as he gave them the stink eye. They all resolutely ignored the dirty looks the benched Inarizaki players were sending a few meters over.

"Akaashi."

He jumped at the sudden address, and quickly jogged over to Coach 

"Sub out Ishijiki," he ordered, and Keiji's eyebrows raised, "Get Bokuto up and running again."

He nodded and accepted the sign from Shirofuku, turning to analyze the court, already running over several plays in his head.

Keiji stepped up to the line and held up the little number 3 in his hand, waiting for the ball to go out. When it touched the ground- another point to Inarizaki- the ref blew for a substitution and their setter scowled, jogging over. He paused, hand covering Keiji's as he passed over the sign.

"Why am _I_ being the one subbed out," he muttered before trotting towards the bench.

Keiji stepped in, scanning over Bokuto's form. Definitely in a rut right now, droopy hair, lost eyes, sloppy figure.

He ignored the other players' stares, instead focusing on the serve, one of Inarizaki's third years was up. Keiji was currently in the back, he looked small, and he was the setter. Perfect for the other team to target.

Sure enough, the serve came flying towards him, but Keiji darted out of the way, "Komi-san!" he called, running towards the net.

"Mine!"

The ball was bumped up and Keiji rushed to get under it, eyes taking stock of everything around him. Bokuto was gearing up to run, though still looking quite dejected. 

His mind flashed to the scoreboard, 19-15. Could they afford one more?

Too late, go time.

"Bokuto-san!" 

Seconds later, the ball was gone, and Bouton jumped. He twisted for a cross shot- he was too slow. Inarizaki's full block was already on him, and the ball slammed back down on their side of the court.

The jeers followed immediately.

_"What's that setter thinking?? Using the #4 like that!"_

_"Fukurodani's doomed! If they keep playing like that then Inarizaki's got this for sure."_

_“The other setter should’ve stayed in!”_

"Akaashi!" one of their blockers called sharply, "The hell was-"

Captain stuck out a hand and stopped him giving Keiji a careful look, "Easy now. I'm sure Akaashi-kun has a plan. Right now, we need to focus on getting that serve up."

"Bokuto-san," Keiji said quietly, nudging the boy, "There's a cute girl right up front, she has brown hair in pigtails, just your type. She's looking at you, you know."

It was a cheap shot, but it seemed to work, Bokuto immediately swivelled around to search for the girl in question (she didn't exist).

Next serve.

Keiji shook out his hands and readied himself.

“Man,” a voice drawled, “Tough luck with that number 4 there. You sure yer coach switched out the right person?”

 _Don’t react. He’s trying to taunt you. Don’t react,_ Keiji chanted to himself, boring his eyes into the server.

Bokuto will pull through. He always does. 

He sucked in a breath and slowly exhaled as the whistle blew. 

“Komi-san!” he yelled with the captain, and the libero swiftly received it. The ball was up. It was a bit off, drifting close to the next. His surroundings froze as his mind whirred on.

_This would be a good chance to use Bokuto. If he’s up to it. The blockers think he’s useless right now._

He glanced over, watching as three spikers ran up. 

Keiji jumped and tapped the ball.

It clipped the net, but fell quickly, missing Atsumu’s fingers as he dove down. Keiji straightened and stared down at Atsumu. 

“I think you’ll find we’ve made just the right decision, Miya-san.”

-

The ball was centimeters away, if he just pushed a little more-

It dropped on the court. Keiji’s eyes widened as his momentum brought him crashing into Bokuto. He head banged painfully on the court as he rolled.

Game over.

Keiji groaned, blinking up at the swimming stadium lights. A few seconds later, and he was slowly coming down from the rush of the game. The soreness in his calves, the burn in his lungs, the twangs from pain his head. 

Inarizaki’s band wasted no time in picking up tune and start blasting their trumpets, banging their drums. Across the court, the black jerseys had all piled on each other, yelling and hollering. 

Everybody on their side was either on the ground or slumped over. The players in the box were frozen.

“C’mon, up, Akaashi,” Bokuto said quietly, extending a hand towards him. The other team was already lining up on the other side of the court. Keiji allowed himself to be pulled up easily. 

“Thank you for the game!” both sides shouted at each other, dipping in a slight bow. 

Keiji accepted a towel and wiped his face.

“Guys, you all played really well,” Coach began, “We made it to quarter finals this year, and we played a strong 3 sets. We’ll go further next year, just you wait. Everybody, say thank you to the third years, for playing their last game.”

All of the underclassmen immediately bowed, shouting their thanks to their senpai, who looked grim but managed tight smiles. 

Gathering their things, the team shuffled off the court slowly. Keiji stuck to the back, squeezing his eyes shut.

A hand clapped on his back and he jumped.

“Chin up, Akaashi,” Bokuto said warmly, staring ahead, “We have the entirety of next year to win.”

“But the third years don’t…” he muttered, glancing at their strong captain’s back. “If Ishijiki-san was in instead of me-”

“It’s too late, Akaashi! There’s only one way to look- forward!” Bokuto shoved both hands against his back and began pushing, “Hurry up, I want to see if they have any pork buns left!”

Keiji smiled softly. Bokuto was certainly strong.

-

That night, they were faced with a decision: “We have the choice of staying or returning to school. If we return, then we can get a refund for the rooms we booked for the tournament. It’s up to you,” Coach said. 

“Er, I’d like to go home,” their setter said. A few of their third years also raised their hands, along with the other first year. Keiji already knew he wanted to watch the rest of the tournament.

Their manager also opted to go home, but she promised to return on the last day to watch finals. The tally came to keeping two rooms, for 5 of the second years, Keiji, and 2 third years. Bokuto quickly swiped a key with Keiji and stuck his tongue out at Konoha, who feigned offense that he was being ditched.

Since Coach lived nearby, he left, but not before levelling them all with a stern look, “If you cause any trouble… I’ll hear about it.” He stared at Bokuto for a few more seconds before turning away.

“It’s like he knows what I’m planning!” Bokuto squeaked, hiding behind Keiji. He sent him a deadpan look.

“Just kidding!’ Bokuto tittered, but the obvious glances towards Konoha and Sarukui weren’t helping his case. Keiji raised an eyebrow. Bokuto hightailed it to the elevator.

He rolled his eyes and followed after the spiker, sticking his hand in before the door could close.

Keiji shifted uncomfortably as it began to move. Was he getting motion sickness? No, it was just an elevator, that couldn’t be the case.

He swallowed and followed Bokuto into their new room, dropping his bag onto a chair and collapsing into the bottom bunk.

As they had been the last game, by the time dinner was over it was already dark.

"I call the shower first," he said aloud. He made no move to get up.

The door clicked shut, "Then act like it," Komi snorted, throwing his bag onto the top bunk opposite Keiji's and swinging up.

After a few moments Keiji sat up and immediately felt nauseous. He frowned- he didn't get food poisoning or anything, did he?

Once he was up it was a lot easier to move, gathering a clean change of clothes and shuffling into the bathroom.

Hot water after a long game was relaxing, serving to soothe his muscles and allow him to escape his thoughts for a few moments, but right now the steam just felt suffocating.

Keiji quickly shut off the water and slapped a hand over his mouth.

Half slipping, half stumbling out of the shower, he gagged at the sudden wave of sickness before keeling over and retching into the toilet.

Keiji choked before ducking his head and feeling his dinner leave his stomach. He coughed harshly, feeling his throat tear itself up, and became insanely dizzy.

"Oi-" somebody hammered on the door, "Akaashi you good in there?!" 

"I-" he managed before feeling his stomach rebel again.

"Open the door!" the banging continued, and Keiji made a half hearted effort to get up, barely managing to pull on a shirt halfway over his head before he lurched towards the toilet bowl again. He groaned and pulled the shirt the rest of the way on.

The door was slammed open with a crunch, and he felt hands over his body, keeping him upright.

"Oh my God Akaashi are you dying??" Bokuto screeched frantically, far too close for his liking.

"'m fine," he croaked, but immediately contradicted himself by keeling over.

"No you're not??" Komi exclaimed, "We have to get him to the hospital!?"

Eventually, Keiji had stopped vomiting, and instead sat with his back to the wall, shivering as his clothes were damp and his hair was still dripping. Bokuto fussed, wrapping him up in a big towel and using a smaller to gently ruffle his hair dry.

A hasty trip down the elevator, being wrestled onto an ambulance, and trying to speak over his teammate's voices, Keiji was shoved into a hospital cot despite his protests, a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. There was a bucket placed next to his bed just in case.

"I'm fine," he tried weakly, "I must've eaten something bad at dinner."

"You don't see any of us hunched over a toilet," Bokuto shot back, crossing his arms and glaring at Keiji. He shrunk back. "Honestly, Akaashi, you should've said something if you were feeling off!"

"But I wasn't..." he mumbled. A nurse came bustling in with a clipboard, the same one who had to deal with Keiji's stubborn refusal as she tried to conduct tests on him. She checked the thermometer and marked something down.

"It's a concussion," she informed them. His teammates all gasped comically, eyes blown wide, "Don't worry," she softened her tone, "It's just a mild one. I assume you had a knock in the head?"

Keiji thought back on it, and, oh, right. At the end of the Inarizaki match he had banged his head on the floor. He nodded.

"Right, I recommend you stay overnight, just to make sure nothing else is wrong, but you're free to leave tomorrow, as long as a parent or guardian comes in to sign your discharge papers."

He frowned but nodded. She soon left after having him record down a few contacts, and warned him off exercise for the next 7-10 days. Bokuto immediately broke out into wails.

"AKAASHI!" he sobbed, lunging forwards to hug him around the waist, "I'm so sorry- it's all my fault!"

He was bewildered, "Huh?"

"If I hadn't crashed into you then you wouldn't be lying there looking all small and weak like that!"

"Small and- Bokuto-san, I'm not dying. And it's not your fault, either," Keiji asserted firmly, "If anything, I should've trusted that you would get it."

"But I didn't! And not only did we lose the match now you're frail and sickly!"

He rolled his eyes and pushed away the spiker.

"Yeah, Akaashi-kun," Komi snickered, "C'mon Bokuto we should get back to the hotel before it gets too late. Can't be bothering little 'frail and sickly' Akaashi-kun for too long."

He let out a quiet groan.

All of a sudden, the room was too quiet without his teammates surrounding him.

"So," lazy drawl cut through the silence, "Frail and sickly, huh?"

Keiji scowled and glanced over. In the middle of the fuss everyone was making, Keiji had failed to notice another person in the room, a bed away on the other side of the room.

He narrowed his eyes but Osamu just raised his eyebrows back. He laying on top of the sheets and was propped up on two pillows, his phone in hand.

"Don't look at me like that, I haven't done anything'," he said, returning to his phone.

"Why are you here, Miya-san?"

"Naw, cut out that 'Miya-san' bullshit, what happened to 'Osamu-chan'?" a ghost of a smirk slid over his face. He sighed at the slight glare Keiji was pinning him with, "Food poisoning. That or I just ate too much."

That did seem like a very Osamu thing to do. Keiji shook the thought out of his head.

"You won't be able to play tomorrow," Keiji pointed out. His head fell back on the pillows behind him and he scowled. A smirk appeared, "Don't worry, the bench will do just fine without you," he said, voice saccharine sweet.

Osamu's eyes flew open, "Coming from you!"

He rolled his eyes and turned to face the wall away from Osamu, effectively ending the conversation. Keiji tried to tamp down the small smile.

Trust his luck to end up in a hospital room with the one of two people he was currently at odds with.

-

The next few days were exciting, watching as the games pulled to a close. To Keiji’s quiet satisfaction, Inarizaki had been knocked out in the semifinals by Ichibayashi. Mujinazaki had ended up winning the whole thing, and Keiji had just about screamed himself hoarse at the final match. 

He checked his bags before exiting the stadium, Bokuto running ahead with leftover adrenaline, hooting. Shirofuku pushed him along, heading towards the bus. 

She left his side to go yell at Bokuto, who had already gotten distracted.

Keiji bumped into someone, and he quickly stepped back, zipping up his bag and glancing up.

He choked, "S-sorry. Miya-san.”

He sidestepped the spiker and began fast-walking back to the bus.

A hand grabbed ahold of his shoulder, "Hey- what's yer deal?!" Osamu exclaimed. 

"My deal?"

"Why the fuck're you so pissy to me?"

Pissy? To _him?_

Keiji knocked away the hand and turned, glaring, " _My_ deal, what is _my_ deal?"

"You heard what I fucking said!"

For some inexplicable reason, anger began swelling over him.

"I tried to be polite! I tried to talk to you, but somehow both of you have become such... such _assholes_ that I don't even know anymore!" Keiji laughed, "Makes me wonder why I even bothered!"

"Assholes?" Osamu sneered, "Oh, yer one to talk, 'don't count on it, Miya-san,' 'the bench'll be fine!' Don't dish out what you can't take."

"What I can't take?" Keiji stepped forward, matching the ugly expression on his face, "I tried to play nice, unless that thick skull you call a brain can't remember, I tried-"

"You call that snooty condescending tone of yers _nice?_ " he said disbelievingly, "Yer so fuckin' full of yerself, thinking yer so much better than me, but newsflash: yer not!"

"You're one to talk!" he shot back, "'Snooty condescending'? You're so self absorbed you think _everything_ said is a personal attack!" Keiji was two inches from his face, and also two from knocking him upside the head. 

"Hey- break it up!" both he and Osamu were shoved back away from each other, Shirofuku glaring at both of them, "Akaashi-kun, we're leaving."

His chest heaved as he stepped away, brushing off his shirt. 

Keiji sent him a last dark look.

"No wonder you don't have any fucking friends on yer team, they must be so sick of yer bullshit," Osamu spat. 

-

15 minutes later, Keiji was seated alone on the bus, face still red as he seethed. He shot a dirty look to the empty seat next to him.

_No wonder you don't have any fucking friends on yer team, they must be so sick of yer bullshit._

He let out a scoff. It wasn't his fault there was only one other first year on the team. 

-

The end of the term was always a hectic week, tearful goodbyes, constant revising, locking in courses for the next year. Keiji, in particular, was freaking out over exams. Bokuto, who had become insistent on getting his straights right after the Inarizaki game, had taken dragging Keiji out of his dorm more often than not. (He suspected that he was going to just drown in textbooks if Bokuto hadn't.)

In just a few weeks, he'd be a second year, there would be new first years to incorporate into their lineup, and school was just going to get harder.

He sighed, tossing his pen onto his desk and grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes.

* * *

"He lost his accent," Osamu spoke suddenly.

"Huh? Who?"

"Nothing."

"Asshole," Atsumu muttered, rolling over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second year is coming up soon...
> 
> Idrk how to write arguments I don't get angry that much... but yeah had fun. I wanted to wait a few days to post but I got impatient :/
> 
> Talk to me on twt @ mandelineh. Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks!


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